Monkey Island 5 The Darkness
by Monkeyislandfanatic
Summary: The darker side of Monkey Island... A whole new, quite different sequel to the MI series, in which Guybrush is captured by Lechuck for Lechuck's sinister plan. Will he win Elaine once and for all? Keep reading to find out!(wip)
1. Chapter 1

Monkey Island 5- the real secret of Monkey Island.  
Chapter 1. A (partially) unexpected encounter.  
  
In the midst of a tropical Caribbean storm on the edge of the now rowdy, pirate inhabited and tourist free ("thank goodness" breathed Guybrush) Melee island, our hapless hero Guybrush Threepwood, fresh from a "romantic cruise holiday" (in reality, an action packed tour of the seven seas, during which Guybrush's pirating sprit rather overexcited him, as he kept attempting to pick fights, and more often than not, Elaine had to dash hastily up from the Galley to rescue him!) writes in his ancient diary. "Dear diary (or journal, log, memoirs, whatever you want to call it!), I am a changed man. Content that Le Chuck has quit this mortal coil (hang on, he never was mortal anyway, was he? Oh, well, never mind, who cares!), I've decided to put my pirating skills to better use, doing something that would benefit whole communities, to forget about the possibility of impending doom and misfortune (hey, I've not been the luckiest of males!) and to just live my life to the full. Oh, and to give my little snuggle bunny the love she deserves, all the time. I've had a change of image too, for the ponytail that had adorned my beautiful head for years has gone. I must admit that I hacked it all off on impulse, remembering a certain Captain Rottingham's harsh yet true words regarding my hairstyle being "last year" (such a cliché comment), and besides, Elaine's been moaning at me for weeks about my hair, and on the morning before I had it cut, she said "Guybrush, please do go through with this, for me, for us, because I'm frankly appalled by the state you've let your hair get into. I mean, it's congealed with grease, and far too long for comfort. And honey, it'll also be much easier to wash, and you probably won't even need to use conditioner! Plus, you're getting some really strange women, if you can call them women, coming onto you, looking like THAT. In fact, I'm not even sure they WERE women! " Well, it looks pretty good (it's still fairly long, about shoulder length), I've defeated the zombie pirate LeChuck four times, so he couldn't possibly come back, I've got a delightful, if slightly pushy wife (I just hope she doesn't read this!), and (thank goodness) have been having no more odd folks trying to chat me up! Yep, life doesn't get any better than this." He leans back in his chair, arms folded, content with the world and at peace with himself. Meanwhile, on monkey island, a shifty character with a shock of jet black greasy hair slicked back from his forehead, loose green trousers, ripped at the knees and covered in grime, and a large scar across his left eye staggers unsteadily, perhaps even nervously, towards Big Whoop. As he does so, deep beneath Monkey Island, in the fiery pits of molten lava known as Big Whoop, a wispy, powerless ghost of LeChuck, left in that form by the sheer force of the explosion that rocketed him to the place in which he raised his undead army, and almost captured Guybrush, seethes silently as he ponders his situation. "Argh, I have the perfect plan to make Elaine mine, kidnap Guybrush (he spits the name "Guybrush" vindictively, as though sucking on a lemon) hold him captive here, lure Elaine to him, make Guybrush my undead servant and Elaine my wife.. ahhh, Elaine, soon you will be with me, the one who truly loves you, through thick and thin, my darling, you shall join me in the fiery pits of hell., but there's just one problem." Lechuck forcefully thrusts his chest out and spirals up towards the entrance to Big Whoop. "I'M NOT POWERFUL ENOUGH!!!!!!!!ARGGGHHHH" he bellows in his most powerful voice. Suddenly, a dark shadow is cast over Big Whoop, and Lechuck glances up sharply to see. "LARGO??!! But how. and WHY!" Lechuck cried, out of surprise and shock from seeing his old right hand man, whom everyone assumed had died in the blast as his fortress exploded all those years ago. Largo shifts, slightly uneasily, in the presence of Lechuck, never quite forgetting his former volatile relationship with him. He clears his throat nervously. "How, well, believe it or not, I was thrown clear in that explosion, the only lasting damage I sustained was this.." he runs his fingers over the scar. " A piece of brick, or metal, lodged itself in my eye as the fortress exploded. As for why, um, gee, I.. uh.I think I may have the solution to your problem sir" Largo ventures. Lechuck gathers his motley crew of his undead, reincarnated after all those years without them, around him. " Finally, fate has worked well for me, Guybrush will get his comeuppance, and I shall have my dear Elaine! Oh, yeah, and Largo contributed, just a bit mind. Most of it was down to me!" "What must we do?" asks a soldier, a little anxious at Lechuck's sudden optimism. "For the moment, just supervise Largo and see he delivers Guybrush to me, alive, and he absolutely MUST be alive." instructs Lechuck. "Um, sir.." A nervous, new addition to the army squeaks. "WHAT" shouts Lechuck, although he is merely trying to intimidate the recent arrival. "Well, we were wondering. exactly what the plan is." He stutters, averting his eyes from Lechuck. "Aye, you'll find out soon. But let's just say, this is the ultimate revenge for the ultimate insult." whispers Lechuck softly. "Ahhhaaaahaaaahaaabwwhaaaaa" he laughs wildly, knowing the plan and certain that Elaine will finally be his. "OH, and WHERE'S Agley??" Lechuck demands to know where his new servant/ advisor is, and Agley creeps out of the shadows. Slick and slimy, he is the only member of Lechuck's evil minions who is actually alive, and one of the lucky few unafraid of Lechuck. "Yes sir?" "Ahem, as you're so good with your hands." (Lechuck's undead begin to snigger) "NOT in THAT way, you perverse moronic serfs! SHUTUP!!!!! Ah, heh, anyway, back to your task. I want you to build two cages to suspend over the portal, one made of finest porcelain, one of pure gold. Each must be large enough to hold a man, but impossible to escape from." "Uh, of course sir, I'll get right on it." Replies Agley, silently thinking what Lechuck wants with the cages, but knowing better than to ask. Back on the Sea Cucumber (it really is amazing how long that boat has lasted!), Guybrush relaxes and pauses a moment from writing in his log, reflecting on how his life has changed dramatically, when the door to his room suddenly begins to shake and bounce, the sound of multiple fists and weapons reverberating upon it. Guybrush, rises, a little hesitantly, clears his throat and says "Hello? Who's there? Uh, helllooooo?" Suddenly, the door is battered down by the horde of skeletal warriors, and, leading the group, "Largo?!" Guybrush gasps, completely horror-struck by the sinister implications of Largo's sudden appearance on his own boat, for although Guybrush is sometimes rather naïve, something about this whole affair makes him feel very nervous (perhaps it was the memory of being dangled upside down over a bridge and robbed that really sets his nerves jangling) but his piratey instinct tells him "Be afraid, be very afraid". "Aye, tis I" snarls Largo. "And you are coming with us" A sudden throb of adrenaline and testosterone surges through Guybrush and he tries to put up a fight. "Uh, yeah, well, what if I don't?! Who's gonna make me, you big old bed wetting doody head?" Largo instantly, instinctively, draws his sword, a dangerous, mad glitter in his piggy eyes, and then pauses. Lechuck wants Guybrush alive, so running him through to shut him up wouldn't be an option. Or would it? Guybrush has absolutely no idea of Lechuck's demands, or even if Lechuck still exists. Maybe if he had a sword (or several) at his throat, he might be convinced, and perhaps may even go quietly. "Alright, Threewood, you asked for it, cos boy, am I mad now!" Largo growls threateningly, then clicks his fingers and, in an instant, Guybrush is surrounded by numerous undead warriors, all wielding swords that point directly at him. Guybrush gulps, and then screamed "epp..Ahhhh, ahhhhhh, Elaine, Elaine, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, I'm hyperventilating!!! ELAINE HELPPPPPPPP!!!!!!", as Largo grabs him and hauls him towards the waiting cargo ship filled with porcelain. 


	2. Chapter 2

Operation Guybrush.  
Chapter 2 - Things are hotting up.  
  
"Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" Guybrush's petrified screams at the mere thought of so much porcelain, an inhumane quantity that he personally considers the worst possible form of torture in existence echo throughout the Caribbean. As he does so, a pirate on a neighbouring boat, having just suffered the humiliation of losing an insult sword-fighting match very badly, and as a result, having no treasure in his hold shakes his head sympathetically. "Poor guy." the fellow murmurs. "Shut yer hole!" hisses Largo venomously in response to Guybrush's desperate screams, drawing his sword and pointing it menacingly at Guybrush from behind. He feels the very tip of the blade press slightly in a notch in his lower back, the blade's position resting, but ready to strike if necessary. When on the Sea Cucumber, Guybrush just lost control of his emotions completely, although he also felt a little emboldened and cocky, perhaps feeling in comparative safety because Elaine was close by, but now, he realises that his very life is at stake, that there is nobody to shield him from serious danger, and that, with Largo anyway, silence is the best policy for survival. Thus he closes his eyes for a second, mentally steeling himself to endure the ultimate ordeal. "What the HELL are you doing?!" Largo bellows fiercely. "Get moving proto, or else you'll get what's coming to you at a premature rate! Oh, whoops. Bugger. I really shouldn't have said that." Largo realises he may have let slip a rather large hint about Guybrush's fate, and also sees that Guybrush is turning round and staring, quite incredulously, at him. "For the last time, get in the hold!" Guybrush feels the sword being jabbed sharply but lightly into his back, and, as he can see no plausible way out of The Nightmare, shuffles forwards with extreme caution to begin the horrific journey to his destiny. He stands anxiously in a corner of the hold, attempting to stay as far away from the porcelain as possible. He closes his eyes again, desperately trying to convince himself this whole affair is just a dream, a fantasy, nothing more. Sufficiently calm, he allows himself to open his eyes a little. Horror upon horror, the porcelain remains, towering over him, glistening grotesquely white, appearing pure, innocent even to the casual observer, but, as sensitive souls know, it hides a secret, a murky and mysterious power so ghastly that it cannot be revealed, at least not now. Suddenly, the ship lurches and rocks as it begins it's long journey to Monkey Island, and the gigantic pile of porcelain looming over Guybrush sways unsteadily, threatening to topple down on Guybrush at any given time. Guybrush swallows, terrified. His mouth is completely dry, he feels incredibly nauseous, his palms and forehead become encrusted with a cold sweat of total fear, he tries to move, to escape in some way, any way, but he remains rooted to the spot, too petrified to move. As the ship bucks and jumps in the vicious waves of the unfeeling ocean, the porcelain slowly but surely wobbles violently, then collapses with an intense thud and crack on the soiled floor of the hold. It's blatantly obvious what has now happened. It's inevitable, really. Guybrush suddenly begins to feel incredibly faint. He sinks, down, down, down, and into utter darkness and despair. The last thing he hears before passing out completely is Largo's disembodied voice cackle "aha-ha-ha-ha! That pesky little moron is history! And, as I have been so very successful in my task, Lechuck." Meanwhile, aboard the Sea Cucumber, Elaine pricks up her ears as she hears the racket above deck and, most distinctly, Guy brush stuttering the words "You big old bed wetting doody head", but she does not instantly race above deck to discover what event has occurred to evoke such a, well, wimpy, response. Instead, she puts her head in her hands and sighs. She is unbelievably fed up with her husband's persistently helpless attitude towards being a pirate, and she feels as if she cannot stand to bail Guybrush out once again. She laments on the hopelessness of the situation. "Oh, Guybrush. Honestly, when will he learn to respect other pirates and.. Oh, hi Timmy. Hey, what's the matter boy?" For Elaine's pet monkey, Timmy has been up on deck. He knows his master is in some kind of dire danger, and he has just seen Guybrush being dragged helplessly off the ship. Therefore, he knows he must attract Elaine's attention and encourage her to follow him. He begins to whoop and squeak at Elaine, desperately trying to persuade her to follow him. She gazes down at him looking slightly confused. "Timmy? What on earth is the matter?" she inquires. As if in answer to this question, Guybrush's piercing screams reverberate through the previously quiet and tranquil Carribean. (He's just seen the porcelain!) A deathly silence follows, and only the lap of the waves can be heard. Drowning in a sudden wave of panic and terror, Elaine sprits above deck, only to catch a fleeting glance of the SS Elaine's rapidly fading silhouette on the horizon. Elaine gasps, partly through disbelief, partly through an unnervingly mothering sense of worry for Guybrush. Finally, when she feels able to summon words adeptly, she cries out "Oh my goodness! I've just had a sudden, horrific, yet terribly plausible thought. Could it be that. Lechuck, or one of his minions, has kidnapped my dear Guybrush? " She forcefully pulls herself together, and voicing her thoughts out loud, exclaims "I'd better get back home and try to get some help with this, I think I'm going to need it." Skilfully, she rapidly manuvers the ship into port, and, grabbing a few personal belongings too valuable to be left on the ship, rushes to her mansion, where Grandpa Marley resides. "Oh, Grandpa!" Elaine sobs emotionally the moment she enters the house. "What's wrong, sweetheart? I've never seen you like this before." "Grandpa, I don't know for sure, but I'm pretty certain that Guybrush has been kidnapped by Lechuck!" She sinks down onto the nearby chaise lounge, and lies down, a pained, perplexed expression upon her face. "Kidnapped, eh?" says Grandpa, privately relishing the thought of Guybrush never returning. "Well, Elaine, I always thought you were too good for Guybrush. I mean, he was a rather pathetic, amateur pirate, and you, well, you 're Governor of Melee island. So, honey, just forget about Guybrush and find yourself a new man, one who wouldn't be dumb enough to allow himself to be captured in the first place!" Grandpa tries to be subtle in voicing his opinion to Elaine, but he fails miserably, making it quite obvious that he is glad Guybrush has gone. Elaine's face flushes an incensed shade of crimson, and she cries indignantly "GRANDPA! Guybrush is my husband, and I love him more than anything or anyone. He is my one, my only, and so I WOULD APPRICIATE IT IF YOU JUST EITHER HELPED OR LEFT ME ALONE" Elaine drew a sharp intake of breath, and then announced to Grandpa, "Look, Grandpa, I'm going to call up an emergency meeting with my most trusted advisors, seeing as you simply aren't helping this situation, OK?" "Yes, Elaine, that's fine. I didn't mean to be so harsh with you, it's just, well, Guybrush never quite lived up to my expectations as somebody suitable for you. But then, I saw him from a very different perspective to you." HT Marley gently apologises and tries to explain his behaviour. Elaine shakes her head, not angrily this time, but affectionately. "Oh, Grandpa. I understand, And I'M sorry for snapping at you like that. I've really got to phone my advisors now though, alright?" "Yeah, you go and get some help from your girlyfriends." Grandpa relents to Elaine's wishes, although he still retains the firm belief that Guybrush is not worthy of his Grandaughter's love. Meanwhile, back at Big Whoop, Lechuck, like a schoolboy longing for the summer holidays to finally come, eagerly awaits the arrival of Guybrush and Largo. As he waits, he relates details of the revised plan provided by Largo to his undead crew. "At last" he crows demonically. "I have a plan that simply cannot fail! Nothing can get in my way THIS time, for I can see now that my previous formulae were far too tame and easily foiled, but now. Guybrush is a guaranteed goner!" "Uh, Captain Lechuck sir, how exactly do you plan to execute this new idea?" asks a very practical member of the crew. "Argh, I be glad that you asked that question," drawled Lechuck. "Ye see, the new plan entails a certain degree of voodoo magic to be executed successfully, and, as luck would have it, Largo informs me that since we separated, he has been learning an ancient, sacred and immensely powerful form of voodoo from what he referred to as 'a mysterious figure', whoever that would be. Now Largo is an expert in the art of voodoo, and so preparation for the new plan may begin. Now I'll tell ye about the juicy bit, the purest form of revenge in existence." Lechuck can barely conceal his excitement. "We are going to kill Guybrush Threepwood so that I may take his life and, with the help of a complex voodoo spell, I SHALL RETURN!!! And even more wonderful, I will become a mortal." " Uh, sir.." ventured one soldier. "Isn't becoming mortal kind of a bad thing, because, well, you can kind of die?!" "Ah, yes, that IS a risk, but hopefully, in my mortal guise, Elaine will finally be wooed by me. Right, now, a little less conversation, a little more action now! First, remove the gold cage from over the portal. We probably won't be needing that at all anymore. unless Elaine refuses to comply with my demands." Lechuck is interrupted by Agley, jogging triumphantly into the lair. "Well, sir," Agley says briskly, addressing Lechuck (obviously!) " Largo has returned, with Guybrush, I'm glad to say." Lechuck turnsaway slightly, a dark shadow passing slightly over his transparent face, a faint secret smile on his lips as he mutters the word "Ex-cellent" (A la Charles Montgomery Burns) He turns back to face Agley and declares "Well, don't just stand there! Bring that poor misguided fool to me!" "D'ya mean Largo?" enquired Agley. "NO, I DO NOT MEAN LARGO, BRING GUYBRUSH TO ME THIS INSTANT!!!!!" bellows Lechuck furiously. "Honestly, employees today.." 


	3. Chapter 3

Operation Guybrush.  
Chapter 3 - Help! I need somebody! Help! Obeying Lechuck's demands as usual, Agley strides out to the ship with a purposeful air, whistling tunelessly and flexing his powerful muscular arms as he goes. He reaches the ship, and calls out, "Hey! Largo!" "Yeah" grunts Largo from deep within the bowels of the ship. "You've done a great job mate, I'll take it from here." Gradually, Guybrush gains consciousness. Initially, only his powers of hearing return and he unwillingly eavesdrops on Largo and Agley's conversation. He hears the dull, steady thump of Algey's footsteps as he approaches, and feels himself being forced onto his stomach and his hands being bound excessively tightly behind his back by Agley. He attempts to shake Agley off while in a half conscious daze, his brain functioning, his eyes not, but Agley overpowers him with alarming ease. "Ha! You cannot escape, you pathetic specimen of a human being, so resistance is futile!" taunts Agley callously. Suddenly, Guybrush feels himself being grasped aggressively by the neck in an iron grip and hoisted roughly to his feet. Instinctively, Guybrush lets out a strangled cry, spluttering and choking. Agley scornfully jeers "You wretched little pipsqueak. You call yourself a pirate? You make me laugh." As his short speech draws towards its climax, his grip on Guybrush's throat tightens considerably and consistently throughout, so much that Guybrush genuinely believes that the remorseless thug behind him is about to break his neck. As Agley utters the final word however, the pressure on Guybrush's neck suddenly disappears. Slowly, Guy brush's eyelids flutter open and, as his eyes adjust to the dank, dingy half light of the hold, he spies a weapon so potentially life threatening that the sight of it almost causes him to pass out for a second time. For Guybrush wakes to discover to his absolute terror, the left hand that had previously been practically throttling him had moved and was now maintaining a vice like crushing hold on the scruff of his neck that is distinctly uncomfortable, and makes it impossible for Guybrush to swivel round, thus effectively preventing him from either escaping or even seeing his captor, but that is not what is causing him to feel incredibly panicky, oh, no. What truly terrifies Guybrush is the object that Agley wields in his other hand, the very sharp, pointed, serrated knife being held to his throat, the very tip of the blade tickling his larynx. For the first time in his life, Guybrush truly feels that his mortality is at stake, and actually is in fear of his life being taken. Eventually, when the power of relatively competent speech returns to him, Guybrush stutters, "W-who are you and what do you want with me?" "I am Agley, and I personally don't want you for anything at all. In fact, I'd prefer to stay as far away from you as possible. Lechuck demanded that I bring you here, Guybrush Threepwood, to meet with him" Agley replies in cool, detached tones. The mere mention of Lechuck sends a wave of freezing shivers down Guybrush's spine, and his mind desperately races with mainly obscure ideas to distract Agley. Agley rudely interrupts Guybrush's train of thought, interjecting, "You ARE Guybrush Threepwood, aren't you? It's my duty to check that we have the correct prisoner." Instantly, Guybrush sees a potential way out, and he clears his throat slightly, nervous yet fairly confident his plan will succeed. " I've, uh, I've never even heard the name Guybrush Threepwood before, what kind of name is that? The name's Sheep good. Mancomb Sheepgood." Agley's eyes narrow barely perceivably, his brow furrowed as he contemplates the validity of Guybrush's claim. He is quite worried that Largo, who Lechuck had told him many a time was an incompetent twit who had let Guybrush slip away from his clutches on too many occasions, has possibly captured the wrong person. His grip on Guybrush's neck lessens a little as he trys to remember the rather distinguishing information Lechuck told him about Guybrush. He racks his brains, and suddenly, it comes to him. He distinctly remembers Lechuck telling him that Guybrush is petrified of porcelain, and, judging by the manner in which his prisoner is behaving when being exposed to porcelain at close quarters, finally realises he has been duped. A silent, seething rage washes over him, and his primal instincts take over. Keeping the deadly blade pointed at Guybrush's throat, Agley twists Guybrush's arms back, jamming them up against his spine, his left hand controlling the movements. "I could break both your arms as easily as snapping a matchstick in two" hisses Agley softly, an air of infinite conviction and menace in his voice. "Get your stinking hands off me, you deranged creep!" yells Guybrush, in a frenzied fit of desperation, his voice breaking with extreme terror and pain. "You don't give up easily, do you Mancomb?" spits Agley sarcastically, pulling his arms ever tighter and beginning to wrench and jerk them in opposite directions. "Ahh, ow, ow, ow!! Oh, that really, really hurts! No! Stop, please! ! Agh! I'll, I'll be good, I promise, just let me go!" Guybrush begs Agley, finally cracking under the immense pain of the torture session. Somewhat reluctantly, Agley releases Guybrush's arms, dropping them sharply, and grunts "C'mon then. Move it!" As Agley walks Guybrush briskly towards Big Whoop, Guybrush's mind buzzes with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Secretly, he now knows that there is no way out of this, this living nightmare, and that ultimately, Lechuck will do unspeakable things to him. He shudders at the thought, the fact that it is inevitable, and wonders vaguely exactly what will become of him when he is passed into Lechuck's clutches. He momentarily allows his imagination to go into overdrive, and sees Lechuck looming over him, brandishing a voodoo doll that bears a spooky resemblance to him, dangling him upside down over a pit of pure white porcelain, even forcing him to down a colossal barrel of Rum Roger's special grog in one single gulp. He forces himself to snap out of his daydream, and instead gazes ahead of him, focusing on the rapidly approaching sight of Big Whoop. He squints at Big Whoop, trying to remember exactly why he vaguely recognises the place. As they are moving alarmingly quickly towards Big Whoop, and the only firm memories that Guybrush can recollect are associations with Lechuck, which fill him with an awful, uneasy sense of dread, Guybrush contemplates the possibility of escaping. First he rather frantically attempts to free his wrists from the rough ropes that bind him, but to no avail. He then experiments a little more cautiously with moving his arms about, ensuring that he attracts no negative attention from Agley, and discovers that he is able to swing his arms up and back, his elbows jutting out. He decides that this is probably the best, indeed quite possibly the only tactic that gives him at least a chance of escape. He calls out to Agley in as amicable a tone as he can muster, " Uh, say, can we stop and rest for a minute? My feet are killing me." Agley grudgingly grunts consent and halts abruptly, almost jamming the blade into Guybrush's throat. He takes a deep breath, then, in sheer self defence, and in a rather spur of the moment manner, knowing that something exceptionally terrifying and horrific will ultimately occur if he simply allows himself to be herded into Lechuck's domain as an animal being led to the slaughter house, thrusts his arms back with all his might, elbowing Agley as hard as he possibly can in the stomach. Agley does not react in the expected, indeed the usual way, doubling up, clutching his belly and allowing his victim to beat a hasty retreat. On the contrary, he barely reacts bodily, his sole reaction being a slight ripple of the muscle across his taut, toned stomach. Hearing no sign of Agley being in any pain whatsoever, Guybrush panics, instantly regretting his rash actions. In the same instant, Agley growls, with grim, dangerous, determination, "Right," his eyes becoming malevolent silts in his face. He grabs Guybrush's arms once again, and, tearing viciously at the flesh, pins Guybrush's arms up by his shoulder blades in a single swift movement. "You just don't know when to give up, do you Threepwood?" hisses Agley with cold, heartless hatred in his voice. Guybrush is petrified, not because of Agley's sinister intonations, although that does not make him feel any more comfortable with the situation, but because the blade that Agley wields is being pressed right against his throat, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but applying just enough pressure for Guybrush to finally fully realise that he is a doomed wreck, and that all hope is lost. Except. Elaine. The only soul who could possibly save him from the wretched torrent of despair he is drowning in. Agley stamps his foot, impatient with Guybrush's perpetual daydreaming, and snarls venomously "I'm warning you now, one more wrong move and." He removes the knife from Guybrush's throat, lifting it just a few millimetres above, and, with a sickening chocking sound, begins to draw the blade over Guybrush's precious neck. Our hero realises that he has pushed the foul fiend too far and eventually relents. "OK, OK, you win already! I'll go quietly. Geez, talk about overreacting!" Of course, using what little common sense he has, Guybrush drops his voice to a tone just below a whisper as he utters the last comment, and, thankfully for him, Agley doesn't notice. With this, Guybrush returns to being marched towards his destiny. Meanwhile, back on Melee Island, Elaine is still lying on her chaise lounge, now surrounded by a plethora of her closest friends clustering around her. Sympathetic cries of "What on earth happened Elaine?", and similar phrases echo about the room. Elaine relaxes back on the sofa, beginning to enjoy all the attention her friends insist on lavishing on her. "My friends, something terrible has happened.." Elaine pauses for dramatic effect, then continues " My dear husband Guybrush has been," she pauses again, but this time, more out of anxiety and fear. Taking a moment to compose herself, she restarts her sentence with a slight sigh. "My dear husband Guybrush has been kidnapped, most probably by Lechuck" Her voice trails away into nothing, and she lies back on the chaise lounge, feeling utterly dejected. Her friends crowd ever closer, cooing generally compassionate remarks. Elaine, tiring somewhat of the constant stream of affection and in need of some advice and answers, rather than simply idle gossip, Elaine forces herself to speak once more. "Look here, I just love him so much, I really want to do anything I can to help him, and I was wondering if, if any of you had any constructive suggestions?" A sudden silence falls over the party as Elaine's guests consider the very limited possibilities for Elaine to help her husband. After a very long minute, someone speaks up. "Elaine, it may be wise to visit the voodoo lady, she knows the past, present and future, so she'd probably be able to provide far more advice than any of us ever could." An influx of suggestions meets these words, and eventually, after much bickering, cat fighting, and arguing, a solution is finally found. "OK Elaine, we've reached our conclusion as to what you should do now." The girl nominated for telling Elaine the plan beams, looking immensely proud of herself. "You should definitely try to find Guybrush, but, well, you will probably need to give up your job as governor and, also, more immediately, go and find the voodoo lady." "Great" responds Elaine brightly, relieved that some constructive solution has now been found. "But, there is a slight problem.." the girl falters uneasily. "What?!" Elaine exclaims sharply. "Well, we have reason to believe that the voodoo lady is no longer on this island.." Elaine gasps, struggling to control her emotions, knowing that she is on the verge of hysterics. Her mind flicks to Guybrush, the only man she has ever truly loved, her reason for being, and she realises she must be strong, for Guybrush. She blinks back the tears that have been rapidly forming, and asserts, "Well, I'm going to the voodoo lady's former shop first, I might find something useful there. Then, I'll try to actually find the voodoo lady, and, with her help, track down and save my darling Guybrush." She looks straight at her audience the whole time she is speaking, holding her head high proudly. She then drops her voice a little, still addressing her now rapt acquaintances. "Thank you so much. I am forever grateful to you all." Elaine whispers softly. "Farewell, my friends." And with that, Elaine sweeps out of her mansion to begin the adventure that will change her life indefinitely. 


	4. Chapter 4

Operation Guybrush  
Chapter 4 - Bwhahahahahaha! Murray returns! (Oh, and in local news,  
Guybrush reaches a point of no return)  
  
Once outside her mansion, Elaine hastily makes her way to the Voodoo Lady's domain. She darts inside the International House of Mojo, a mysterious, intricately themed store dealing with all manner of magical needs, with a heady, aromatic scent tinged with a lingering spice heavy in the close air of the chamber. She wanders slowly yet purposefully around the room, visually scouring the room for anything that could prove useful in her quest. Her eyes are suddenly drawn to a rather unusual looking skull perched on top of a shelf. There is something, something animated about it. It appears to be willing Elaine to come closer, which she does, when "Boo!" yells Murray, cackling delightedly as Elaine, having never seen Murray before, gasps, obviously shocked. "Who, or what, are you?!" Elaine enquires in a slightly amused tone, for talking skulls are something of a novelty even in the Carribean. "I am the almighty Murray, fearsome and demonic skull, master of darkness. Say, do I know you? You look awfully familiar for some reason." Elaine fixes him with a cold stare, daring him to unlock the vague memory of her. "Ooh, yes, I remember you now. You're Governor Marley." Murray sounds a little anxious, but he mainly appears to be savouring the situation. "That's Governor Marley Threepwood" Elaine cuts in, suddenly feeling indignant. "Oh, just ignore that cadaverous cranium, he's fussing around like that merely for attention" a melodious, soft, Caribbean accented voice calls. Elaine, feeling slightly confused, calls out "Voodoo Lady? Is that you?" " Yes Elaine, it's me. Come over here my child, and allow me to enlighten you. " Elaine makes her way to the tiny back room of the shop to seek counsel from the voodoo lady for the first time in her life. " Ah, yes, Elaine. I was about to embark on a long, perilous voyage to meet your husband, but I was struck with a diabolical vision, and I then knew that your needs were far greater than his, and I also sensed that he would be unable to reach me." " Do you know what's happened to Guybrush? Please help me, I'll do anything to find him" "I had a terrible, disturbing vision of Guybrush being dragged helplessly from his ship, then suffering unspeakable tortures in Lechuck's clutches. He, Lechuck, that is, is now only a ghost, but I sense that he has a sinister use for your husband, something truly evil involving the darker side of voodoo, which I strive not to be involved with. Elaine, Guybrush is in grave danger, and it's up to you to rescue him as quickly as possible. Although I cannot go with you to assist you in defeating Lechuck, I can give you some assistance and guidance." Elaine's facial features alter dramatically throughout the voodoo lady's rather grim foresights. Almost immediately she blanches, horrified, as the voodoo lady describes the sinister implications behind Guybrush's abduction, but as the voodoo lady empowers Elaine with a fresh sense of hope, she relaxes and feels capable of achieving the objective. She instantly seizes the opportunity to have assistance in her quest. "How exactly can you help me?" "I can offer you my wisdom and experience in the art of voodoo, which you will undoubtedly need to learn to stand any chance of destroying Lechuck. Before you set sail, I shall teach you the sacred, quite advanced form of ancient voodoo, the roots of which date back into the mists of time, for a reduced rate, of course, given your current position. That is, if you desire to find your true love." Elaine instantly agrees. "Of course I accept your generous offer, I'd die to be with Guybrush again." "Then your quest begins." Meanwhile, deep below Monkey Island, Guybrush is hauled into Big Whoop, and comes face to face with his second worst nightmare, (the worst being the hellish journey to Monkey Island) the demonic undead pirate Lechuck. Lechuck notices Guybrush a moment before Guybrush sees Lechuck, and he greets him in the most menacing, threatening tones he can muster, although there is a distinctly joyful edge to his voice as he growls "Argh." "Argh!" screams Guybrush, absolutely terrified, simultaneous with Lechuck as he eventually gives his full attention to him. "Guybrush Threepwood, I finally have you right where I want you. You're mine now, and you cannot escape." This threatening phrase initially makes Guybrush feel incredibly scared, as he starts to believe Lechuck's words, but when he realises that he Lechuck has never managed to win, and is confident enough to believe he will escape from Monkey Island relatively unscathed, Guybrush becomes his usual cocky self with Lechuck, laughingly remarking, almost mocking, " Ha ha! I've defeated you 4 times, what makes you think you'll win this time, huh?" " Ah, but you see Threekhood." begins Lechuck, purposely mispronouncing Guybrush's name in the hope of provoking a reaction. Of course, this tactic works, and Guybrush moans, although with a touch of sarcasm and amusement in his voice, "Hey! You should really know my name by now you know, I've killed you that many times, I would have thought that you'd remember." " Dargh, but ye be missing my point, anyway. You've only survived as long as you have because of my precious Elaine. Had she not desired my full, undivided attention when we met on the Death Starfish, YOU would have been butchered brutally on the spot. But now..." LC rubs his hands together gleefully, relishing the moment. "Now there is no escape, and, after all these years, I can have my sweet, sweet revenge. I will make you suffer severely for all those occasions in which you have eluded my grasp." Although this sinister speech unnerves Guybrush slightly, he manages to maintain his calm, jokey demeanour. " Ha! You couldn't possibly hurt me, you're just a ghost, a sprit, practically nothing. Why, I believe your power has disappeared completely!" Lechuck instantly crushes Guybrush's comments, counteracting, "Not exactly. While my physical strength is currently somewhat weak, I control all my crew, and they CAN hurt you. Also, I know things about you and your deepest, darkest fears that I can, and probably will, use to scar you emotionally for the remainder of your short life! Besides, how do you know I can't hurt you?" With these words, Lechuck lunges for Guybrush, aiming to smack him hard directly in the centre of his face. However, Guybrush proves that Lechuck himself really is incapable of causing physical harm to Guybrush, as the only sensation Guybrush feels is an extremely cold chill washing over his nose and radiating outwards, consuming his whole face. "Damn! It didn't work! Well, as for my power over all here, why, I could order Agley here to rip open your chest, while you remain conscious, reach into your bloody chest cavity and pluck your still beating heart out before your very eyes." "Eurgh, gross! Do you have to be so graphic? Think of all the kids who might be reading this." Lechuck's eyes illuminate evilly as he quickly formulates a suitable comeback, cackling "If that affects youngsters badly, then by the end of your torture... " The word "torture" makes Guybrush feel significantly more anxious than he did mere seconds ago, and he responds, rather nervously, "Torture? I think all that porcelain was quite enough of a torturous experience for me, thank you." Lechuck, immensely irritated that his great speech has been interrupted, bellows, "BY THE END OF YOUR TORTURE, you will plead for mercy." Guybrush struggles to choke back a laugh, the concept of him pleading for mercy with Lechuck is almost inconceivable. "Plead for mercy? With you? Unlikely!" " YOU WILL PLEAD FOR MERCY, and any young children reading will be traumatised." In mock horror, Guybrush exclaims. "That's awful! Is that your fiendish plan? To eliminate any hope of world peace by corrupting the minds of innocent, impressionable readers by subjecting them to terrifying scenes of violence?" " Uh, no. But changing topics slightly, please allow me to demonstrate the superb control I have over my loyal crew. Untie our prisoner's hands, but bind his feet, then, please, take our guest's jacket." As Agley still holds the knife to Guybrush's throat, one skeletal warrior/servant darts behind Guybrush and works to remove the rope securing his wrists, gradually loosening it and finally allowing Guybrush's blood to start flowing through his deadened hands. Guybrush wriggles his fingers, trying to increase the circulation in his stiff digits, as another member of the Lechuck's undead army binds his ankles together tightly, making it impossible for Guybrush to walk. Then, Guybrush's coat is carefully taken from him, and Guybrush, rather surprised by the sudden courteous display, feels he should say something. "Gee, thanks. It is quite hot in here." This remark, so innocent, so naïve, causes Lechuck to burst out laughing, a wild, deranged, sneering cackle. The majority of Lechuck's crew quickly join in with the laughter, and, eventually, albeit very nervously, and wondering exactly what was so amusing about his comment, Guybrush giggles, "Ha, ha, ha. ah.." ending with a questioning sigh. As soon as Lechuck regains his composure, he gives a silent, rehearsed order to one of his skeletal servants, who struts up to Guybrush and yanks a lock of hair from Guybrush's head. By this time, Guybrush's suspicions are beginning to rise just a bit, and he starts to suspect that something sinister is about to occur. Then, Guybrush sees the knife being removed from his throat and, realising that he will be hurt, that the blade was merely a threat, wriggles around in a desperate, vain attempt to escape, his arms flailing wildly, thus preventing anyone getting too close to him, hopping unsteadily around, when he feels a strong arm close across his chest and wrestle him to the ground. Although he is now momentarily stunned, and in a supine position, he still persists in waving his arms about vigorously, making it quite difficult for anyone to hold him securely. Agley allows the other soldiers to draw nearer to Guybrush by planting a booted foot on Guybrush's throat and slowly, deliberately, shifting his body weight onto that one foot. This instantly knocks all the breath out of Guybrush, and he claws at Agley's ankle. In the ensuing chaos, Guybrush is eventually pinned down as a sacrificial victim, two of Lechuck's skeletal slaves seize his wrists and pin him to the floor, each gripping one of Guybrush's splayed arms at the wrist, while another quickly races up and grabs his feet, pulling Guybrush's legs uncomfortably taut, leaving Guybrush gasping for breath when Agley lifts his foot, releasing the pressure and allowing Guybrush to really appreciate the gift of life. As Guybrush recovers, Agley tests the sharpness of the blade on his finger, the slightest touch of the knife drawing a thin stream of blood. Agley grins, a twisted smirk, glad that the blade is in prime condition, and stems the trickle of blood flowing from his finger on Guybrush's face, smearing it roughly across his cheekbones. Guybrush is absolutely disgusted by this, the incident makes him feel violated, and dirty somehow, and he struggles furiously against the souls who hold him to the ground. He finds it practically impossible to keep still, particularly as Agley is wielding the knife, attempting to cause physical harm to our hero. Guybrush's efforts to escape from the grasp of the skeletal warriors culminate in him managing to raise his head and shoulders up. Agley looks to Lechuck for instructions on how he should react to this slight rebellion from Guybrush, and Lechuck leers "Ye'd best tame him into submission, if he's misbehaving for ye." At those words, permission to unleash his hidden resentment and hatred, Agley draws his right arm back, his hand clenched into a tight fist, observing Guybrush and appearing to be deciding where to aim, although he knows right from the start what he will do to Guybrush. Guybrush quivers slightly, still struggling against his captors, but feeling terrified of Agley's strength, now visible to Guybrush, and ability to injure him at the same time. Summoning all his strength, Agley wallops Guybrush in the stomach, an apt vengeance for what occurred on the SS Elaine. A searing pain surges through Guybrush's gut, and Guybrush fights back a blood curdling yell with extreme difficulty, gritting his teeth and letting out a mere half gasp, half yelp as he feels the impact of the blow. The one thought that prevents him from showing his raw emotions is "If I let Lechuck know I'm in pain, he'll know he's winning. I'll just have to stick this out until Elaine comes to rescue me." However, Guybrush has little time to react to the blow, as even before he is finished thinking, Agley swiftly brings his fist up, smacking Guybrush under the chin. Guybrush's head reels back with the sheer force of the punch, landing with a heavy thump on the rocky ground he lies on. As Guybrush falls backwards into his original position, Agley crouches down beside his head, poised and ready to strike again. He clouts Guybrush with an iron fist across his left cheek first, starting the attack at the very top of Guybrush's cheekbone and swooping his clenched fist down and over the soft flesh of Guybrush's cheek, ending the violent blow at Guybrush's chin. He hits Guybrush so hard that his head rolls to the right as Agley's fist curves down his face. Agley repeats the procedure with Guybrush's left cheek, sending his poor, limp head, hanging flaccidly like a ragdolls', to the right. By this time, Guybrush is fighting to stay conscious, his only thought Elaine, the sole reason why he remains so, the harsh, metallic taste of blood heavy in his mouth. Finally, Agley smacks Guybrush heavily over the head, finally sending him down into a restless oblivion. As Guybrush gradually regains consciousness, his head throbbing, he is forced to watch as Agley takes his knife and prepares to shallowly slash Guybrush's upper arm. Guybrush flinches as the tip of the knife penetrates his flesh, and, as Agley gradually draws the blade down his arm, he lets out a scream of pure agony, all his emotions bursting out in a torrent of sound. He cannot conceal his feelings anymore. However, before he can gain momentum, Agley clamps his hand suffocatingly tightly over Guybrush's mouth, stifling the yell. In that instant, Guybrush's injured arm is twisted, causing him even more anguish, and the steady stream of blood flowing from the wound is caught in a glass vial held by Largo, as Agley derisively sneers, "You think THAT hurts? That's nothing compared to what I could do to you." Guybrush squirms vigorously in Agley's firm grip, initially trying to escape from the horrific scenario, his screams merely muffled beneath Agley's hand, but as Guybrush struggles, Agley reacts by grabbing hold of Guybrush's sore, bruised cheeks and squeezing them, in full knowledge that he is causing Guybrush to suffer. In turn, Guybrush realises that it is useless trying to escape, in his current situation at least, and so he stops moving, contenting himself with his attempts to make himself heard. However, Lechuck smiles slyly, aware that Guybrush is already beginning to show signs of weakening Eventually, Guybrush calms down slightly, and quietens down, as he can see that screaming isn't doing any favours for him, and besides, his vocal chords are exhausted. Hesitantly, Agley removes his hand from Guybrush's mouth, glances at it for a second, then wipes the blood transferred from Guybrush's mouth to his hand off on his shirt. While Agley cleans himself up, Guybrush briefly considers what has occurred. For a moment, he hasn't the faintest idea of why he has been subjected to the ordeal, save for the obvious fact that Lechuck is a twisted, sadistic being who takes pleasure from his pain, but that couldn't be the real reason, as Lechuck would have surely caused him a lot more pain if that were the case. Slowly, a terribly logical solution comes to Guybrush, as he thinks about what has been done to him in the past ten minutes, and puts the pieces of the puzzle together. As the slow realisation of the situation finally fully dawns on Guybrush, he suddenly feels sick to the stomach, and swallows, trying to suppress the dreadful feeling. He assumes as relaxed and composed a demeanour as he can muster, although his voice still shakes with fear, and inquires, "Say, this wouldn't have anything to do with voo-doooh.." His voice trails off into a soft, low moan towards the end of his question as Largo confirms his fears, revealing a small doll, an exact replica of Guybrush, from behind his back. He feels the blood drain slowly from his face as the full horror of what tortures are likely to come sinks in. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.  
The horror! The horror!.  
  
As Guybrush begins to recover from the shock of everything that has happened to him since he was kidnapped, Lechuck addresses Agley in a stage whisper. "Agley, escort our prisoner to his chambers." In response to this command, Agley grabs Guybrush under his arms and hoists him roughly to his feet. Guybrush sways forwards slightly, unsteady, a combined result of being horizontal for so long and from losing a significant amount of blood from the purposely inflicted wound on his left arm. As he staggers a little, Agley grabs Guybrush by the collar with one strong hand and lifts him right off his feet, leaving him dangling slightly precariously in the air. By shifting the position of his hand on Guybrush's shirt while still maintaining a firm yet relatively gentle grasp on it, Agley forces a confused and quite frankly terrified Guybrush to his eye level. Guybrush gazes, petrified, into Agley's huge, slate grey eyes that seem strangely soulless yet hypnotic. If any emotion runs through his vast, empty eyes, it is a slight gleam of pure malice and evil. Guybrush frantically tries to struggle free, squirming in Agley's powerful grip. Agley's hold doesn't physically hurt him, although it is not exactly comfortable, but Guybrush is suddenly stricken with fear, and instinctively feels the need to escape, sensing things could get far worse. He attempts to trick his captor into dropping him, suddenly shaking his body from side to side, thrashing around madly in his grip, but this tactic doesn't work, as Guybrush simply does not possess the strength to actually break free from his grasp. He then eventually resorts to lashing out at Agley, kicking out with his bound legs and punching viciously with his fists. (The flight or fight response having automatically kicked in!) Agley sighs deeply, looking incredibly bored, and, grabbing hold of Guybrush's shoulders, frogmarches him towards the porcelain cage. Guybrush panics as he realises exactly where Agley is going to deposit him, resisting Agley's hold fiercely, albeit pointlessly, as he is dragged across the room and is (quite literally) thrown into the cage. He lands heavily on his knees, but springs up as soon as he recognises what he has come into contact with, temporarily forgetting his bound ankles. As he leaps up, he pitches forward violently, but catches himself just in time to prevent himself colliding with the ghastly semi solid wall of porcelain. He wraps both his arms around himself, trying desperately to avoid touching the delicate sides of his prison. When he eventually feels relatively calm, (the key word being 'relatively'), he quickly tries to formulate an escape plan. He racks his brains, considering precisely how to either destroy or distract Lechuck and his henchmen. (Thus taking his mind off the Monkey Island equivalent of room 101.) As he contemplates exactly what to do, Lechuck excitedly gathers his cronies around to discuss the tortures he has planned for Guybrush. Lechuck himself becomes increasingly animated and expectant as the group conspire, plotting various punishments for Guybrush to endure. Guybrush has a sudden stroke of inspiration, and begins to swiftly scour his pockets, occasionally getting distracted, and feeling slightly disturbed due to his hearing the odd whispered threat and roar of hollow, heartless laughter ring through the air. Eventually, his fingers close blindly on the object he was searching for, and without a moment's hesitation he plucks the bottle out of his pocket, shakes it up manically and unleashes the foaming, fizzing spray over Lechuck's form. As the liquid hits him, Lechuck gasps in shock, then, realising what the liquid actually is, bursts into a fit of frenzied laughter. Guybrush lets out a surprised "Huh?" and glances down at the bottle. "Oh, no!" he moans in a state of horrified disbelief, "DR Pepper!" Regaining a little of his composure, he reassures himself gently, shrugging in a resigned tone "Eh, what's the worst that could happen?" "Aha- ha! Ye'll soon find out the worst that could happen" Lechuck taunts gleefully, as he beckons Largo, who wields the voodoo doll in one hand and a horrific looking, rusty implement in the other. As Largo slowly advances upon Guybrush, a fiendish grin plastered over his face, Guybrush gulps "Uh-oh, I really brought this punishment on myself."  
As Guybrush is being tormented by Lechuck and company, Elaine remains under the Voodoo Lady's strict instruction. "Now," says the Voodoo lady gently, "I've promised to teach you the basics of what you need to know to rescue your husband, and we will begin now." She pauses dramatically, allowing Elaine a moment to prepare herself, but Elaine, an anxious expression on her alert face, cries "Please, don't patronise me, may we begin the lesson now?" The Voodoo lady sighs, a slightly stern look on her face, then "Very well. We will start with perhaps the most important element of the Art, and this will certainly give you hope, Elaine" as Elaine looks increasingly agitated. "It is essential to remember that the vast majority of situations and spells encountered in Voodoo can be reversed." Elaine's frown lifts for a moment, and she even manages to smile a little. "So there is hope then?" she muses wonderingly. "Yes, but we must hurry. The reversal of spells and hexes only works if there are no other options for rectifying the situation, and unfortunately, once a hex has been used on a person, there is only a limited time in which the reversal spell will act. Wait any longer than 48 hours, and the original spell will normally be permanent. Now, the basics to the history of Voodoo, which you will need to study carefully, can be found in ." "Wait just a minute!" shrieks Elaine indignantly. "I thought you were going to teach me everything I need to know, I certainly didn't expect to be given a pile of books to read!" The Voodoo Lady's face tenses, and her expression becomes quite terrifyingly frosty, but she gazes at Elaine calmly for a moment, "Elaine, the best way to get a basic grounding in the subject is to study literature from the history of Voodoo, and also to study the spellbooks you might need. Here, this should be enough to teach you all you need to know" The Voodoo Lady approaches her cobwebbed bookshelf in the corner of the room, and is obscured by shadow for a moment, emerging with a huge pile of books, so tall she is almost hidden from sight as she staggers under the sheer weight of them. "Here, take these." She thrusts the tower of books at Elaine. "If you need any help understanding any of the concepts, I'll be willing to explain anything." She pauses and adds as an afterthought "Except perhaps the history of Voodoo.."  
Elaine sighs slightly, rather irritated that she must be reduced to the level of a school pupil, but settles down with the first book on the pile, coming to the quick conclusion that it would be better to just study the required material as quickly as possible, rather than to complain and prolong Guybrush's rescue. She succeeds in engrossing herself in the colossal heap of books, but after hours of studying and managing to work her way through about half the pile, Elaine gradually becomes increasingly exhausted from the effort of the extensive studying, and is suddenly stricken with an unbearable fatigue, and knows she cannot work productively anymore without a break. She gently rests her head on her arms, closing her eyes and trying to force her body and mind to relax, having studied for so long, and being so concerned about Guybrush, she finds it incredibly difficult to calm herself. Suddenly, all she can see ahead of her is total darkness. Relieved that she must finally be relaxed enough for sleep, Elaine eases naturally into a state of relaxation, shattered into shards as she hears manic, satanic laughter echoing wildly around her, and realises, with a sinking, sickening lurch in the pit of her stomach, that this horrific laughter is mingled with her husband's agonised yells. Trying desperately to seek Guybrush out by calling his name over and over, increasingly loudly and passionately, Elaine suddenly shields herself against a great wall of flame that bursts up from the very heart of the darkness, and, as the flames gradually ebb away, Elaine spies something so dreadful to her that she cannot see clearly after a few seconds, her vision blurred with tears of anguish, crying out "No. NO. It can't be." as she spots Guybrush lying perfectly still on the ground, completely inert and lifeless.  
"Elaine! ELAINE!" Suddenly, Elaine is back in the Voodoo Lady's shop, sweating and trembling all over as she is roused from her vision by the now very concerned Voodoo Lady. "Elaine," starts the Voodoo Lady in her rhythmic, gentle voice. "I'm sorry I have to tell you this, but." She pauses, quite uncomfortably, then murmurs" I know what you just saw, because I saw it too. And I'm afraid, it is something of a. well, a premonition." Elaine gasps, still recovering from the shock of her nightmarish vision, so not adequately prepared for such startling news. "I. I really was much happier before y-you told me that.." Elaine's voice shakes slightly. "I'm so sorry, I can completely understand how terrifying and shocking such visions of the future can be, Elaine, but you must remember, you can prevent such occurrences. Listen, Elaine. I've had many such visions, both of my own, and through other people, and over many years, I've learnt that the best way to overcome these visions is ultimately to keep busy and to refuse to think about them." Elaine takes a deep, calming breath. "Ok, I'll do that. Thanks for the help." Elaine settles back down with the books, but she cannot concentrate properly. It is not so much the vision that keeps distracting her, but her deepest fears and anxieties, which all are led by pure uncertainty, and the darkest worry that she will never see Guybrush again. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
The road to perdition.  
  
Having finally mastered the basics of the art of Voodoo, Elaine, despite the interruptions she has suffered, feels significantly more confident than she had previously felt about rescuing her husband. The process of learning about practical ways in which to combat whatever might be done to Guybrush emboldens Elaine with a fresh sense of courage, and she proudly saunters over to the Voodoo Lady, grinning gently a s she imagines charging into the room where Guybrush is being held captive, rescuing him and scooping him up in her arms, holding him close and never letting go. "OK, I now know how to reverse most curses, I understand the roots of Voodoo history, and I can identify the types of natural ingredients I might need to concoct a potion. Now, what next?" "Well, I'll tell you what I always tell Guybrush, or indeed anyone else who is setting off on a long, potentially hazardous journey. You will definitely need a crew, as you can't sail that far alone, on such a voyage that may well be fraught with peril. I recommend going to The Scumm Bar, you are bound to find some semi fearsome buccaneers willing to help you with your quest." The Voodoo Lady replies coolly. "Great! Thank you for all your help!" enthuses Elaine, truly relieved that she has had all the assistance she needs, and can now concentrate properly on the critical task in hand. She strides confidently towards the door, when a sudden desperate cry from the dark recesses of the shop causes her to halt sharply, impatiently, and listen to the pleas of this mysterious figure. The second the figure began to form coherent phrases however, Elaine knows exactly who she is dealing with. "Oh please! Take me with you! I need to get out of here! I need to wreak hav. I mean I have to help you find Guybrush!" cries Murray excitedly as Elaine sighs deeply, bored, her hand lingering on the doorknob. "PLEASE!" Murray yelps "I'm bored out of my skull here! Well, not literally, of course. And I could help you. I could be your first member!" "Oh, you know what I mean!" he adds, slightly exasperated as Elaine shoots him a cold, withering glance. "Murray, I know you. You're pure evil, malice personified". Elaine states her opinion of Murray that she had gleaned from Guybrush's description of Murray as being "Cheeky, mischievous and roguish". "What, I'm not that bad! (although I'd love to be)" Murray insists. "Oh, come on, please." He begs. At this, the Voodoo Lady's rhythmic tones cut through, neatly interrupting Murray's pleas. "Yes, please do take him Elaine. He may prove to be of use, certainly in situations where spying might be necessary, as Murray is, when silent, inconspicuous enough to go anywhere in the world and be unnoticed. Besides, his incessant chattering and grumbling gives me the most appalling headaches, but I am quite sensitive to noise, certainly when I'm trying to concentrate on VERY important hexes" she casts a reproachful glare at him. "But I'm certain that you'd cope far better than me." "Well." says Elaine slowly, reluctantly, as she can think of far better people to share the voyage with than Murray, and yet can see that he has the potential to be a worthy member of her crew. "Alright then." She concludes eventually, still not entirely happy with the idea. "But on two conditions. First, you will be allowed to join me only as the skull that you are, that means no persuading the Voodoo Lady to charm you with a body" "Oh.." groans Murray dejectedly. "Do you actually want to join me?" Elaine asks sharply. "Because if you carry on like that, I shan't even take you out of this shop, understand?" "Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm sorry, it's just so frustrating you know? Anyway, what else do I have to do to get out of this place?" Elaine's frosty expression softens slightly as she states the second rule "You must also promise me, make a solemn oath to me that you will behave yourself impeccably for the duration of the journey, as I've heard some amazingly awful tales about your behaviour." Murray, suppressing his evil urges with difficulty, murmurs assent, for although he struggles to control his dominant streak, he knows that it would not be wise to infuriate Elaine any more by arguing with her or being negative and attempting to go against her plans, certainly not if he wishes for freedom. "Well, OK then." Elaine plucks Murray up from the tabletop carefully, still not trusting him entirely, in fact almost convinced that he will bite her and then escape without her supervision, but he says "Hey, you're much more gentle than Guybrush was, man, he was clumsy!" and seems very satisfied to allow her to carry him out of the door. Once out of the door however, Murray cannot contain his excitement any longer, and bursts out "Bwhahahahaha!! Finally, I am free, free to wreak my revenge on the Caribbean that has. OWFH!" Elaine drops Murray casually as he becomes engrossed in his vocalised thoughts, and cries out with a deliberately sarcastic edge to her voice "Opps, how clumsy of me!" "Oh, ha ha, very funny Elaine. I meant after we rescue Guybrush, of course" Elaine sighs, already exasperated with Murray's behaviour, but decides to give him a second chance and picks him up off the ground. Together, they set off for the Scumm bar to begin a voyage that Elaine will never forget. As Elaine walks purposely towards the Scumm Bar, Guybrush is hauled roughly out of his porcelain prison and dragged before Lechuck. A sudden, brief wave of panic sweeps over Guybrush as he catches a glimpse of the expression on Lechuck's face, omnipotent and dictatorial, knowing that Guybrush's demise is certain this time, convinced he cannot escape, but Guybrush forces himself to quash his fear for his own mortality to ask the question that has been plaguing his thoughts since his arrival. "Why have you brought me here Lechuck? What do you want with me? What are your plans?" Guybrush says as calmly as possible, trying desperately to suppress the ever increasing note of anxiety in his voice. Lechuck's features contort into a twisted leer in response to Guybrush's questions, and ignoring Guybrush completely, he turns and addresses his undead army in a slightly sardonic stage whisper. "We clearly need to work much harder to break him, he's still retaliating." "Wha.what do you mean, retali.. ah!" Guybrush trails off into a gasp of pure shock as he is suddenly forced to the floor by Agley, powerless to resist his completely unexpected grasp. Agley flips Guybrush effortlessly onto his stomach, meeting very little resistance from Guybrush, since the prisoner now knows better than to struggle against an unbeatable force, and brings out the dagger used earlier to pierce Guybrush's innocent, soft flesh. Guybrush squirms uncomfortably, sensing something awful is about to happen, twisting his neck round in a vain attempt to glean a glimpse of Agley, but he is unable to. The blade slides dangerously under his shirt, ripping through cords and fibres, destroying the very fabric of Guybrush's being. He stiffens instinctively as he feels the knife tearing through his back, but suddenly realises, to his immense embarrassment, that all Agley has done is use the knife to strip the shirt off his back. However, panic rises in Guybrush once more as he catches sight of Largo clutching the voodoo doll in one hand and gazing at him with malicious intensity. Largo suddenly gives a perverted grin as an insidiously evil idea pops into his head, and he holds the voodoo doll over the river of lava, holding it to the ground and dragging it along the floor until the neck of the doll lies on the edge of the rock, its head hanging lifelessly over the molten lava. Obviously, Guybrush, totally helpless against the power of the voodoo doll, is pulled across the floor by demonic forces and comes to rest with his throat uncomfortably upon the end of the rock. Due to his position, he is forced to look down into the bubbling, bloody lava and he suddenly feels incredibly uneasy, as though he senses a fate worse than death will ultimately ensue. Largo smirks, revelling in the evident discontent he is causing Guybrush, and pushes the voodoo doll still further over the boiling concoction. Guybrush lets out a strangled squeak of terror as he finds the top half of his body suddenly dangling precariously over the voodoo lava that holds the key to the gates of hell, as all who pass through it become undead. It would be all too easy for Largo to release the doll and transform him into a creature, a pawn solely for Lechuck's use, to be disposed of once he has been deemed useless. The thought of this, the prospect that he might become an undead servant to Lechuck, that he may even have to endure the sight of Elaine being forced to share her life with Lechuck, fills guybrush with a cold, anguished dread, as the mere thought of these events is too much for him to bear, death, any death, no matter how excruciatingly painful or gruesome, is preferable than that fate. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
Last steps before leaving the Melee.  
Elaine approaches the Scumm bar and enters, ever so slightly cautious, due to rumours she has heard about certain drunkards who frequent the Scumm bar and have a tendency to holler lewd slogans at any woman who dares venture into their territory. At once, the stale, acrid stench of grog shoots up her nostrils, and any weaker woman would have recoiled, overwhelmed by the fumes, but Elaine merely sniffs to clear her nose and slowly takes in the action around her. Immediately, she assumes that some kind of riot must be taking place, as the patrons all jostle each other ferociously, and some take the violence to extremes, upturning tables, pushing and shoving, even brawling on the slatted wood floor of the bar. "Wow." Exclaims Murray in awe, fighting to suppress the urge to vocalise his thoughts about how evil most of the people in the bar appear to be. However, Elaine quickly realises that many people are merely fighting for a prime position at the bar, and comes to the conclusion that the actions that seem quite violent to her is simply drunken revelry, and she strides confidently towards a burly, muscular seaman. "Hi." She coos alluringly. The man glances upward, almost choking on his grog when he sees the governor beaming at him. "Ms Marley!" He splutters, immediately consciously attempting to sober up. "Wh... What are you doing here? You never usually come down, in fact, we very rarely find any women in this place, let alone incredibly attractive ones such as yourself." Elaine feels a slight wave of anger wash over her, as she feels patronised and offended by the comments, but she stifles the feelings with a sunny smile directed at her prospective crewmember. "May I buy you a drink?" The man gapes, his mouth hanging loosely open, and he pinches himself hard and, on realising he is not dreaming, heartily accepts the offer of a drink. Over a watered down grog ("The real stuff would burn holes in your gut, and mine too, come to think of it. On second thoughts, I'll just have a half grog, same as you.") Elaine discovers the gentleman is named Joshua, and learns all kinds of things about him. He talks constantly and vivaciously, and demonstrates such zest for discussing the ocean that he knocks his grog flying attempting to demonstrate the actions of swash and backwash. "Oh! Sorry Elaine!" "That's ok, Josh. I found everything you said fascinating, so almost didn't notice the grog spill." "You'd better get it cleaned up, the acid eats through anything amazingly quickly." "Oh, I don't want to be a bother, I should be ok." Elaine replies coolly, knowing her clothing has been treated with industrial strength starch and is so very well protected. "Say Josh, are you occupied with any projects at the moment?" Josh's eyes almost bulge out of his head with amazement. "No Elaine. Uh, why do you ask?" "Well," Elaine bows forward slightly, seductively. "I really need a favour, as I'm in a bit of bother at the moment." She sighs gently, wrapping a finger round one of her chestnut curls. "Some guy giving you grief?!" Josh leaps to Elaine's defence. "Yes, that's exactly it. A diabolically evil.. animal, and I want revenge, but I'll need your help." "Brilliantly put!" whispers Murray excitedly. Elaine pauses and rests her hand softly on his shoulder. Josh swallows, barely able to contain his excitement. "Elaine, I'd travel to the ends of the earth for you." "Great. Would you be willing to help me cruise to Monkey Island?" Josh gulps, the awe he feels for Elaine turning into raw dread in his stomach, but he gazes into Elaine's eyes and is hypnotised by her kind, considerate yet deeply anxious face, and forces himself to relent. "Well... Sure, I'll help you. I do love the ocean, after all." Elaine suddenly, quickly, embraces him in a hug as her relief and gratitude rise to the surface in a rapid flurry, but she releases him the instant she hears a high pitched wolf whistle. She smiles, ever so slightly coy now. "Welcome aboard. By using a very similar method, she is able to persuade another young man, Michelangelo, to be a second sailor. "Oh, thank you!" she gushes profusely. "You shan't regret this!" However, Elaine still lacks the most crucial member of her crew, the navigator, as all the patrons of the bar evade her eyes and questions when she requests a navigator. Eventually, she asks the bartender, a stout, rather temperamental middle aged man, if he has seen any navigators in the bar, and he chuckles, guttural and sardonic. "Miss, there's only one navigator who comes by here now, he's frightened off all other navigators, fiercely competitive and aggressive, he is. But he would never harm you or me, he's just terribly protective about his job as navigator, so protective in fact, not a soul on this island knows his real name. We all just refer to him as.... The Navigator. He's over there in the corner, his usual spot." Elaine's eyes follow his pointing finger to a reclusive man huddled alone in a dark, dank corner of the bar. She saunters over to him, and, at the sound of her footsteps, he glances up sharply. "Oh, hi. Mind if I join you?" The navigator shrugs and shifts slightly to allow Elaine to squeeze up beside him. "Thanks." Elaine sits by him, trying not to betray the squirming, sick sensation in her stomach at being so close to him, for he gives off a stench of sour grog constantly, has a closely cropped head that reminds Elaine of a diseased peach, and a general aura of dirtiness about him. "So... I hear you're an excellent navigator." Her companion nods and passes her a customer survey. Elaine is very impressed, as all reports are exceptionally positive. "Well, this is great!" she beams. "Would you be interested in taking the position of navigator on my crew?" The navigator raises his eyebrows in distain as if to suggest "You have a crew?" "I do indeed, but you will be the most important member of the crew, and I'd be happy to discuss wages." Again, he raises his eyebrows, silently questioning the offer, then shakes his head. "Well, if you're sure... "Elaine murmurs calmly. "Of course, you'd be entitled to extra benefits, but if you're not interested..." She rises, but The Navigator catches her arm and speaks for the first time, in a harsh, raspy quiver. "Where be ye going, on this littl' trip?" "Elaine gently pulls free from his grasp and, turning to face him, animatedly explains about the voyage, finishing with "So I really need an expert navigator just like you." He nods again, almost understandingly, but then pauses. "Mmm, love to help, but there seems to be a, ahem, ahem..." he is suddenly taken aback by a horrific coughing fit, and, recovering, continues "a very high risk factor. Course, if I were offered special, uh, unique benefits, I may just forget the hazardous nature of the voyage." "Ok, fine, but before we discuss that, I'd appreciate seeing some of your navigating skills firsthand. Statistics are all very well but.." The navigator's face flushes vindictively, and he snaps "Don't you believe my statistics? The opinion of all my customers not good enough for you?" "My dear sir, I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. Of course I can see truth in the statistics, I was merely seeking clarification of your exact skills. I don't doubt your abilities at all." The navigator grins, showing repulsive yellowing teeth. "If you don't doubt me, accept me offer, and I shall be able to tell if you be deceiving me. And ye are aware a the fact I'm near the only navigator in these parts?" "Yes, I am aware that navigators are in somewhat short supply, which is why I'm so glad I found you. What do you propose?" "You mentioned, uh, special benefits, and I was wonderin' if I might suggest a few..." "Well, that's settled then. We have the premium food package, all expenses paid plus the normal wages, and, of course, half any treasure we find, and, in light of your personal request, an hour every day in my company. So, are you now ready to join my crew?" "Aye, I'll join yer crew for that." Elaine shakes The Navigator's hand as warmly as she can bear to. "Pleasure to have you aboard. " 


End file.
